The Destroyer
Title: The Destroyer
Band: Dir en grey, ex-Phantasmagoria
Pairing: Kyo/Toshiya, Kisaki/Kyo
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I don't own anybody. Go figure.
Summary: "My actions are, more often than not, completely misleading, but you wouldn’t know anything about that."
Warnings: Swearing, implied sex, drug use
Author's Note: Well... this was unplanned. But I'm writing again. That's something.
A part of me demands for guilt in my deception, but that brief moment of virtue is quickly devoured, consumed by the monster that I keep reigned in. My conscience is quickly beaten into a silent submission.
I think Kisaki put it most eloquently. “You’re a caring person. Well, sometimes. At times you’re one of the nicest people I know, but at other times you seem to want nothing more than to destroy everything around you.” It also happens that Kisaki was the only person that I let get so close to me. Of course, such intimacy demands a heavy price, and that price was our very relationship. Now he pretends that I simply don’t exist, and when he is prodded into acknowledging our past together, the turbulent loathing that crosses his face is immense. He doesn’t even need to vocalize his thoughts then; the mere way his brows furrow and his mouth tightens into a thin line declares quite loudly that he wants nothing more than to smash my face into a wall. And not shockingly, I don’t blame him for bearing such anger towards me. If I was in his position, I would want to completely destroy me too.
After witnessing the turmoil I had dealt Kisaki with my very hands, I resolved to never be that close to someone again. In my seldom moment of humanity, I felt that I could do that much to keep others from falling to pieces within my monstrous grip.
Unfortunately, I had failed to take into account that, just like any other person wandering this goddamn planet, I am not invulnerable to love, and it was that very emotion that made me destroy my once-solid resolve.
“It’s Kyo, right?” he asks, his wide grin boldly displaying crooked rows of teeth. We don’t even know each other and he already stands so close and with such nonchalant ease. It makes me want to tear him apart and leave him crawling away, trembling.
Instead, I plaster this obscenely shy smile on my face. “Uh… yeah…” I say, falsely soft-spoken.
He doesn’t sense even this minute deception, instead laughing the most absurd laugh that I have ever heard. “The others told me you were a little shy,” he says, “but we’ll get along just fine, won’t we?”
As long as you stay far enough away from my claws, we’ll get along just fine in this charade I’ve started.
“Hey, Kyo?” he asks, his voice curious like a small child’s. Already the sound makes my mouth twist with contempt, but he seems to mistake it for thoughtfulness. “We’ve known each other for years, but when I stop and think about it, I really don’t know anything about you.”
I snort. “I keep my private life private.”
He smiles widely, and he slides to the floor so that he’s sitting right next to me. “Come on,” he whines playfully, “don’t be so cold. I don’t just want to be your coworker, I want to be your friend.” He pokes my shoulder. “What goes on in that little head of yours?”
Seeing your heart ripping to pieces. Seeing you unable to trust another person again in your life. Seeing you flinch and hide whenever I enter the room. Seeing you shrink away from others because they might be a monster beneath the surface in the very exact way that I am. Seeing you so distraught and fucked in the head that not even the things that you love will be able to keep you sane. Basically, I am thinking about completely ruining you, even now. If you weren’t so trusting, then maybe this would have crossed your mind.
“Mmm… normal stuff,” I reply, “friends, family… movies.”
You grin. “What kind of movies?” you ask excitedly. “Oh, do you like horror movies? I always want to see them in theaters, but no one will ever go with me. Shinya just wants to see Disney movies, Die can’t shut up in a theater, and when I went to one with Kaoru he ended up in my lap because he was so freaked out.”
I offer a smile, the expression just as false as my words. “Well, if you want to go see one, then I don’t mind.”
“Great!” you exclaim. “The next time one is in the theater, we should go.”
“Of course.” You fucking moron.
I’m not even sure what machinations got us into this position. I was drunk, I know that much. I never drink, and now I remember exactly why I made that resolution. I can’t seem to drink without unwanted consequences. Your fingers ghost down my chest, the calloused pads tracing my muscles as though you want to burn every ridge, every mark into your mind. You smile gently at me when you notice that I am awake, and then you press a horribly soft, affectionate kiss to my lips. “Morning, Sleepy,” you murmur softly. You seem so vulnerable in your displays of affection. You’re too trusting.
“…Mmmm… what happened?” I groan, though I’m pretty sure that I already know.
The embarrassed flush that tinges your cheeks confirms my thoughts. “Well… last night, everyone was drinking, and I guess you were completely smashed… uh… I was too, and somehow we ended up on each other…”
I shift slightly, and I gasp at the way my sore body groans in pain. “You fucked me.”
The flush on your face darkens. “Yeah…” you say, and you then shift uncertainly. “You acted like you enjoyed it.”
My actions are, more often than not, completely misleading, but you wouldn’t know anything about that. In this situation, I would rather that I’m the one pounding into your body and make you ache in ways that you’ll never be able to purge from your mind. “So…” I begin with a sigh. “What is this?”
You smile uncertainly. “Well… I would like for it to be more than just a one night stand.”
My charade falters slightly as I frown. I want to laugh in your face, but, surprisingly, I also want to kiss you. I do find myself conflicted, but I know which one the person I pretend that I am would do, and that is why I pressed my lips to yours shyly. The tension in your shoulders washes away, and you wrap your long, lanky arms around me in a display of affection. I want to pull away from your embrace and snort cruelly at your actions, but at the same time I want to sink into this warm embrace.
You kiss my forehead. “I love you, Kyo.”
“You poor kid.” Kisaki doesn’t even try to cover up his pity as he looks at you. I’m sure that you think that Kisaki is referring to your decision to join the band, but I know better. He looks up at me, disgusted and frustrated. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
You snort and place your hands on your hips in a display of blatant defiance. “I know exactly what I’m getting into,” you say, “and I’d like it if you don’t go off telling me that I’m making a mistake when I’m not. If anyone had no idea what they were doing, it’s you for giving up what you had.”
The expression of pity and rage on Kisaki’s face is unprecedented, and if I wasn’t standing here, watching this scene happen, I would never believe that you were the one to put that look on Kisaki’s face. He stalks away, but he can’t resist the juvenile urge to slam you into a wall as he storms past. He looks at me hatefully, and then he’s gone. Exactly like our past together.
“What is his problem?” You huff, your brow furrowed in frustration. “Where does he get off on preaching to others like he’s some all-knowing god?”
I shrug. “He’s always been like that,” I reply, “he’s probably just bitter. After all, you did replace him.”
You nod. “That must be it,” you say, “why else would he talk that way to me? We’ve never even met before!”
He has other reasons for preaching to you, but I would rather that you never know them. You’re easier to deceive when you aren’t looking for my monstrous side.
“Are you okay?” You ask, and you look up at me with concern.
The truth is no, I’m not okay. Recently I’ve been feeling more feral, more malicious than normal, and I know that it’s because I’m exhausted. I’m not exhausted from the constant touring though. I’m exhausted from the constant need to maintain this “Nice Kyo” act. When I’m trapped on the bus with you and the others, I don’t have the chance to unwind, to let the monster that I am roam free. I have to keep the reigns in on my true self all of the time, and I’m draining myself in the process. You have to be noticing this, noticing my shortening temper and my sharpening tongue. You cannot be so dense as to not notice this.
“Do I look okay?” I sigh, and I can hear the agitation in my voice.
You frown as you fumble with opening your soda. “Why are you annoyed?” you ask. “I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to be worried about,” I say frankly.
“Yes, there is,” you protest. “You’re not acting like your usual self. Sure, you tend to lean a little on the dark side, but you’re always polite and sweet. I can’t even talk to you without you snapping at me anymore.”
“I’m not always polite and sweet,” I reply dryly, “if you didn’t always have your head stuck in the clouds then you would fucking know this.”
I can’t hold back the satisfaction I get from the hurt look on your face. I would feast off of it if I could. “What are you talking about?” Your finger slips from the tab of the pop can.
And then I laugh. It’s not the sweet, soft laugh I treat the others to. It’s my actual laugh, the malicious cruelty completely unrestrained. I can see you shuffle away slightly, and I enjoy knowing that even my laugh can inspire this display of rattled nerves in you. I wonder what would happen if I told you every single truth that I’ve been keeping from you. Would your face completely contort with fear? Would little goose bumps cover your arms? Would you beg for the freedom that I love to keep from you?
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. I know that this is because you have no words to offer this side of me. You never thought that there would be a need to pacify a beast. “…I love you,” you say softly, and I know that you’re saying that in a desperate attempt to patch over a wound that I had created with your love and affection. But that won’t work. I know because despite that fact that, despite my maliciousness, I do love you, but it’s not enough to keep me from wanting to tear you apart over and over again.
I snort and put out my cigarette. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Toshiya.”
The devastated look on your face inspires both pride and misery in me. You look down at your soda, and as you open it foam sprays all over you.
I laugh softly. “Did you shake it first?”
You get up, your expression dark. “No.” You then disappear, presumably to clean yourself up. I laugh, again.
I hardly recognize this person that you’ve become. You’ve taken me by surprise just as my monstrous side shocked you. I suppose this is sweet irony in motion.
You push the deceptive white powder into a dainty line on the cold surface of the mirror. I watch as you roll the bill with your long fingers, the same fingers that used to worship me like a god. The little white line disappears as you snort it, and then you sit back, your eyes shut as you wait to be taken away into a world much better than the one I’ve guided you to.
“Pathetic,” I say simply. I can’t blame you for this path you’ve taken, but at the same time I wish you could have run from reality in a different way. Even Kisaki’s forms of escape are better than this.
“Don’t call me pathetic,” you groan, and you cover your face with your hands.
I shrug and lean back. I’m too tired to argue with you right now.
After a moment of silence, I hear what sounds like a sob, and then you whine, “You hate me, don’t you?”
Again, I shrug. “Would you believe me if I said, ‘No?’”
Your silence tells me everything I need to know. “Alright, fine. I hate you.” I love you.
You sob again, and if I was a better person I would hug you and soothe your pain. But I’m not. I’m a destroyer in disguise, and there’s no point in hiding it from you anymore. You know the truth.
Band: Dir en grey, ex-Phantasmagoria
Pairing: Kyo/Toshiya, Kisaki/Kyo
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I don't own anybody. Go figure.
Summary: "My actions are, more often than not, completely misleading, but you wouldn’t know anything about that."
Warnings: Swearing, implied sex, drug use
Author's Note: Well... this was unplanned. But I'm writing again. That's something.
A part of me demands for guilt in my deception, but that brief moment of virtue is quickly devoured, consumed by the monster that I keep reigned in. My conscience is quickly beaten into a silent submission.
I think Kisaki put it most eloquently. “You’re a caring person. Well, sometimes. At times you’re one of the nicest people I know, but at other times you seem to want nothing more than to destroy everything around you.” It also happens that Kisaki was the only person that I let get so close to me. Of course, such intimacy demands a heavy price, and that price was our very relationship. Now he pretends that I simply don’t exist, and when he is prodded into acknowledging our past together, the turbulent loathing that crosses his face is immense. He doesn’t even need to vocalize his thoughts then; the mere way his brows furrow and his mouth tightens into a thin line declares quite loudly that he wants nothing more than to smash my face into a wall. And not shockingly, I don’t blame him for bearing such anger towards me. If I was in his position, I would want to completely destroy me too.
After witnessing the turmoil I had dealt Kisaki with my very hands, I resolved to never be that close to someone again. In my seldom moment of humanity, I felt that I could do that much to keep others from falling to pieces within my monstrous grip.
Unfortunately, I had failed to take into account that, just like any other person wandering this goddamn planet, I am not invulnerable to love, and it was that very emotion that made me destroy my once-solid resolve.
“It’s Kyo, right?” he asks, his wide grin boldly displaying crooked rows of teeth. We don’t even know each other and he already stands so close and with such nonchalant ease. It makes me want to tear him apart and leave him crawling away, trembling.
Instead, I plaster this obscenely shy smile on my face. “Uh… yeah…” I say, falsely soft-spoken.
He doesn’t sense even this minute deception, instead laughing the most absurd laugh that I have ever heard. “The others told me you were a little shy,” he says, “but we’ll get along just fine, won’t we?”
As long as you stay far enough away from my claws, we’ll get along just fine in this charade I’ve started.
“Hey, Kyo?” he asks, his voice curious like a small child’s. Already the sound makes my mouth twist with contempt, but he seems to mistake it for thoughtfulness. “We’ve known each other for years, but when I stop and think about it, I really don’t know anything about you.”
I snort. “I keep my private life private.”
He smiles widely, and he slides to the floor so that he’s sitting right next to me. “Come on,” he whines playfully, “don’t be so cold. I don’t just want to be your coworker, I want to be your friend.” He pokes my shoulder. “What goes on in that little head of yours?”
Seeing your heart ripping to pieces. Seeing you unable to trust another person again in your life. Seeing you flinch and hide whenever I enter the room. Seeing you shrink away from others because they might be a monster beneath the surface in the very exact way that I am. Seeing you so distraught and fucked in the head that not even the things that you love will be able to keep you sane. Basically, I am thinking about completely ruining you, even now. If you weren’t so trusting, then maybe this would have crossed your mind.
“Mmm… normal stuff,” I reply, “friends, family… movies.”
You grin. “What kind of movies?” you ask excitedly. “Oh, do you like horror movies? I always want to see them in theaters, but no one will ever go with me. Shinya just wants to see Disney movies, Die can’t shut up in a theater, and when I went to one with Kaoru he ended up in my lap because he was so freaked out.”
I offer a smile, the expression just as false as my words. “Well, if you want to go see one, then I don’t mind.”
“Great!” you exclaim. “The next time one is in the theater, we should go.”
“Of course.” You fucking moron.
I’m not even sure what machinations got us into this position. I was drunk, I know that much. I never drink, and now I remember exactly why I made that resolution. I can’t seem to drink without unwanted consequences. Your fingers ghost down my chest, the calloused pads tracing my muscles as though you want to burn every ridge, every mark into your mind. You smile gently at me when you notice that I am awake, and then you press a horribly soft, affectionate kiss to my lips. “Morning, Sleepy,” you murmur softly. You seem so vulnerable in your displays of affection. You’re too trusting.
“…Mmmm… what happened?” I groan, though I’m pretty sure that I already know.
The embarrassed flush that tinges your cheeks confirms my thoughts. “Well… last night, everyone was drinking, and I guess you were completely smashed… uh… I was too, and somehow we ended up on each other…”
I shift slightly, and I gasp at the way my sore body groans in pain. “You fucked me.”
The flush on your face darkens. “Yeah…” you say, and you then shift uncertainly. “You acted like you enjoyed it.”
My actions are, more often than not, completely misleading, but you wouldn’t know anything about that. In this situation, I would rather that I’m the one pounding into your body and make you ache in ways that you’ll never be able to purge from your mind. “So…” I begin with a sigh. “What is this?”
You smile uncertainly. “Well… I would like for it to be more than just a one night stand.”
My charade falters slightly as I frown. I want to laugh in your face, but, surprisingly, I also want to kiss you. I do find myself conflicted, but I know which one the person I pretend that I am would do, and that is why I pressed my lips to yours shyly. The tension in your shoulders washes away, and you wrap your long, lanky arms around me in a display of affection. I want to pull away from your embrace and snort cruelly at your actions, but at the same time I want to sink into this warm embrace.
You kiss my forehead. “I love you, Kyo.”
“You poor kid.” Kisaki doesn’t even try to cover up his pity as he looks at you. I’m sure that you think that Kisaki is referring to your decision to join the band, but I know better. He looks up at me, disgusted and frustrated. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
You snort and place your hands on your hips in a display of blatant defiance. “I know exactly what I’m getting into,” you say, “and I’d like it if you don’t go off telling me that I’m making a mistake when I’m not. If anyone had no idea what they were doing, it’s you for giving up what you had.”
The expression of pity and rage on Kisaki’s face is unprecedented, and if I wasn’t standing here, watching this scene happen, I would never believe that you were the one to put that look on Kisaki’s face. He stalks away, but he can’t resist the juvenile urge to slam you into a wall as he storms past. He looks at me hatefully, and then he’s gone. Exactly like our past together.
“What is his problem?” You huff, your brow furrowed in frustration. “Where does he get off on preaching to others like he’s some all-knowing god?”
I shrug. “He’s always been like that,” I reply, “he’s probably just bitter. After all, you did replace him.”
You nod. “That must be it,” you say, “why else would he talk that way to me? We’ve never even met before!”
He has other reasons for preaching to you, but I would rather that you never know them. You’re easier to deceive when you aren’t looking for my monstrous side.
“Are you okay?” You ask, and you look up at me with concern.
The truth is no, I’m not okay. Recently I’ve been feeling more feral, more malicious than normal, and I know that it’s because I’m exhausted. I’m not exhausted from the constant touring though. I’m exhausted from the constant need to maintain this “Nice Kyo” act. When I’m trapped on the bus with you and the others, I don’t have the chance to unwind, to let the monster that I am roam free. I have to keep the reigns in on my true self all of the time, and I’m draining myself in the process. You have to be noticing this, noticing my shortening temper and my sharpening tongue. You cannot be so dense as to not notice this.
“Do I look okay?” I sigh, and I can hear the agitation in my voice.
You frown as you fumble with opening your soda. “Why are you annoyed?” you ask. “I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to be worried about,” I say frankly.
“Yes, there is,” you protest. “You’re not acting like your usual self. Sure, you tend to lean a little on the dark side, but you’re always polite and sweet. I can’t even talk to you without you snapping at me anymore.”
“I’m not always polite and sweet,” I reply dryly, “if you didn’t always have your head stuck in the clouds then you would fucking know this.”
I can’t hold back the satisfaction I get from the hurt look on your face. I would feast off of it if I could. “What are you talking about?” Your finger slips from the tab of the pop can.
And then I laugh. It’s not the sweet, soft laugh I treat the others to. It’s my actual laugh, the malicious cruelty completely unrestrained. I can see you shuffle away slightly, and I enjoy knowing that even my laugh can inspire this display of rattled nerves in you. I wonder what would happen if I told you every single truth that I’ve been keeping from you. Would your face completely contort with fear? Would little goose bumps cover your arms? Would you beg for the freedom that I love to keep from you?
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. I know that this is because you have no words to offer this side of me. You never thought that there would be a need to pacify a beast. “…I love you,” you say softly, and I know that you’re saying that in a desperate attempt to patch over a wound that I had created with your love and affection. But that won’t work. I know because despite that fact that, despite my maliciousness, I do love you, but it’s not enough to keep me from wanting to tear you apart over and over again.
I snort and put out my cigarette. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Toshiya.”
The devastated look on your face inspires both pride and misery in me. You look down at your soda, and as you open it foam sprays all over you.
I laugh softly. “Did you shake it first?”
You get up, your expression dark. “No.” You then disappear, presumably to clean yourself up. I laugh, again.
I hardly recognize this person that you’ve become. You’ve taken me by surprise just as my monstrous side shocked you. I suppose this is sweet irony in motion.
You push the deceptive white powder into a dainty line on the cold surface of the mirror. I watch as you roll the bill with your long fingers, the same fingers that used to worship me like a god. The little white line disappears as you snort it, and then you sit back, your eyes shut as you wait to be taken away into a world much better than the one I’ve guided you to.
“Pathetic,” I say simply. I can’t blame you for this path you’ve taken, but at the same time I wish you could have run from reality in a different way. Even Kisaki’s forms of escape are better than this.
“Don’t call me pathetic,” you groan, and you cover your face with your hands.
I shrug and lean back. I’m too tired to argue with you right now.
After a moment of silence, I hear what sounds like a sob, and then you whine, “You hate me, don’t you?”
Again, I shrug. “Would you believe me if I said, ‘No?’”
Your silence tells me everything I need to know. “Alright, fine. I hate you.” I love you.
You sob again, and if I was a better person I would hug you and soothe your pain. But I’m not. I’m a destroyer in disguise, and there’s no point in hiding it from you anymore. You know the truth.